


Pitiful

by Shadsie



Category: Kid Icarus Uprising - Fandom, 光神話 | Kid Icarus (Video Games)
Genre: Animals, Connections between souls, Death, Drama, Everything's Cuter with Kittens, Gen, Humor, Literal Tropes, Major Spoilers for Uprising, Our hero dies in the first chapter but there's still a long story, Palutena goes nuclear, Post-Game, Reincarnation, Spiritual, Spoilers, TV Tropes, Taking Morality Pets Literally, Tragedy, Tragicomedy, Wrath of Gods, morality pet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-28
Updated: 2014-01-28
Packaged: 2018-01-10 07:42:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1156941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadsie/pseuds/Shadsie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Goddess Palutena lost her most trusted angel.  Her Light became deadly and her Light dimmed.  The increasingly-apathetic goddess finds a life that needs her in a sickly kitten whose original owner named "Pitiful."  There is something about the tiny animal that she cannot put her finger on.  Some of the "morality pets" that keep us sane are figurative.  Others are literal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Lay Your Sacrifice on the Altar and Stain the Light with Blood

**Author's Note:**

> _**Disclaimer:** The Kid Icarus series belongs to Nintendo. This is not for profit and the darkness of my writing is slightly less subtle than their games. _
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> _The idea behind this is the “Morality Pet” – a TV Tropes term defined as a character that serves to temper another, stronger or more forceful character and help them to keep their heart / do the right thing when they otherwise might act unethically (“I will do the right thing for your sake”). This story is meant to explore the idea of Pit being a morality pet for Palutena._  
> 

**PITIFUL**

 

 

**Chapter 1: Lay Your Sacrifice on the Altar and Stain the Light with Blood**

 

 

The doors to the old Light Shrine burst open in a cloud of dust. They hadn’t been opened in several years and it took the forceful shoulder of the strongest man in the world to haw them loose.  The old priest that had once kept this place had died years ago and no one was found to take his place.  The shrine had fallen into further disrepair after the Great War.  No one in the town that the little temple overlooked was particularly inclined to making prayers and offerings to the Goddess Palutena anymore, for they remembered well when the once-trusted patron of Humanity had lost her mind and had become their enemy.  

 

That was exactly why the strong man was here, breaking in.  Magnus was just passing through the town on the plain, a place he had been to before, hired to fight to reclaim human-territory on behalf of the town’s citizens.  Times were peaceful now, more than they had been in decades.  It would seem that the Goddess of Light had seen fit to bless everyone in the area again. Sunshine was plentiful, learning and inspiration were on the increase and crops were abundant. The survivors that had reclaimed their city, however, had not forgotten.  Suspicion was given to any messengers of the gods – including the one that Magnus was holding.

 

“What are we doing here?” the boy asked. “My laurels…I dropped my crown.”

 

“Hold tight, Angel-Face,” the warrior said.  “I’m doin’ all I can for ya. If we go back right now, the townsfolk ‘ill just finish the job.  Maybe your goddess will hear ya if you’re in one of her shrines.” 

 

Magnus laid the injured angel upon the altar in the back of the shrine.  Back in the old days when it was used regularly, the Goddess of Light was given offerings of grain and wine-grapes upon it.  Fruits and vegetables were considered the proper sacrifices – Palutena had never been given slaughtered animals, nor people.  Blood-sacrifice of animals was common for many gods.  Human-sacrifice was the domain of only a few – such as Palutena’s counterpart, Medusa. The Goddess of Light was thought to honor warriors on the battlefields, but would have been offended by an innocent human form bleeding out on her altar.  Of course, there was a person bleeding on this shrine-altar now, but the context was different.  

 

Magnus turned to go, grabbing the hilt of the enormous sword strapped to his back.  “Don’t go,” Pit requested. 

 

“I gotta,” Magnus said.  “We were followed. I can hear the folk all in a mob headed here.  I’ll fight ‘em off.  Maybe your goddess will extract ya from the altar.  That’s what I’m thinkin’.  That’s why I brought ya here.” 

 

“You could have taken me to a hot spring.”

 

“Not with that wound. That one guy stuck ya with a special blade. I don’t think a little spa-time is gonna be enough.  Besides, the baths are all the way on the other side of town. Just hang on and… pray or somethin’.” 

 

Pit lay on the altar like a prone sacrificial virgin.  The pain in his stomach came in waves.  He was covered with bruises and tender places where he’d been hit and had a few shallow cuts on his arms, legs and wings, but the serious injury was the gut-wound.  Magnus had said something about the sword he’d been stricken with being a “holy blade,” a particularly powerful kind of sword made from a metal that was rumored to be able to kill immortals.  He wasn’t afraid. He’d been finished off before – his boss had always brought him back.  It was the silence in his mind that was driving him crazy with worry.  Pit had lost his crown.  It was the token by which Lady Palutena spoke to him and viewed his world from her place in the heavens. 

 

He started talking to her, anyway. “Lady Palutena?” He asked the air, “Can you hear me? I’m kind of… in need of a little help.  Time’s a bit of a factor here…” 

 

The pain was dulling and he could feel pins and needles in his extremities.  There was a familiar feeling of being drained, of what happened when wounds were too much.  Everything had happened swiftly and without his expectation.  Pit had come to the town to check up on its restoration.  He felt bad about what his de-souled body had done to this specific place during the time when the Chaos Kin had both him and Lady Palutena in its grasp.  The worst thing about it was knowing that the ordeal really had been all his fault.  If he’d not invaded the Lunar Sanctum on his mission to take out Viridi’s weapons-manufacturing division, the Chaos Kin never would have escaped into the world.  Lady Palutena had tried to tell him not to feel bad about it – that those his body had killed had only been killed by his body, not him.  Viridi, of course, could be counted on for honesty. She’d reminded Pit that he had freed the cosmic evil that she and her butler, Arlon, had been holding prisoner.  As Pit saw it, even though he did not have blood on his hands on purpose, the stain was still there. 

 

So, the innocent criminal had tried to make it right in a small way by coming here to help the people rebuild their lives after the war was over.  Surely, they’d known that he had quelled the Chaos Kin and had defeated Hades.  The people here did know – but what he hadn’t counted on was how little they cared.  He was treated as a threat.  Almost all of the adults in the town had set upon him as soon as he’d arrived, full of his good intentions.  Pit had held back in his fighting, reluctant to kill humans, at least not without a direct order to do so – for they were the domain of his goddess - that which she protected and he was charged to protect – not to harm. On the whole, he liked humans, too.  Pit had injured many people trying to get them to listen to him and then trying to escape, but refrained from landing any lethal blows.  According to Magnus, who had arrived and immediately started helping him as soon as he’d seen what was going on, that was the reason he’d been hurt.  Magnus, for his part, refrained from lethal moves, but was a less compassionate fighter. He’d crippled several young men.    

 

They’d just about cleared a way for Pit to get to some high ground and to call for an extraction when the young town guardsman with the “immortal-killing sword” rushed him.  Magnus had grabbed him and fled.  His laurels had fallen from his head somewhere along the way. 

 

Pit let his muscles relax.  He could hear Magnus’ heavy footfalls outside. “Lady Palutena, I’ll find my way back to you…” he whispered. “I promise.” 

 

Magnus burst through the doors of the shrine again and quickly shut them behind him.  He held up an object triumphantly.  “Hey, kid, I got yer crown.” 

 

The man was met with silence and stillness.  “Angel-Face?” he asked, approaching the altar.  “Pit?” 

 

Pit lay with his eyes open by slivers, as blue as they ever were, but soulless.  Magnus felt the boy’s neck and sighed.  He ran his large fingers over his eyes and closed them and then gently put the laurel-crown on his head.  “Hope we cross paths again real soon, kid,” he said, but a sinking feeling in his heart told him that this finishing-off was for good this time. 

 

A light shone down through the shrine’s ceiling, defying normal physics.  The body of Pit was lifted up in it before vanishing, leaving behind only some patches of blood on the altar and a few feathers.  Magnus left by the back door, carrying his sword, hoping not to be followed by all the people whom he’d beat up – and those willing and able to slay an angel. 

 

 

“What’s wrong with the captain?  Why isn’t he comin’ back?” 

 

Palutena glared with impatience at the centurion archer who’d asked the question.  Nearly her entire army was gathered in the throne room of her palace, watching her as she held their dear Captain Pit close, trying to will life back into him. 

 

“He usually comes back right away when he gets finished,” the same centurion commented. 

 

“I know that!” Palutena snapped.  “I know that,” she said desperately, “I’m trying. I can’t… I can’t feel his soul anywhere!” 

 

“You’re crying, my goddess.” Another centurion this time, one of the strongarms.   

 

“Leave.  All of you.  Now!” 

 

In a flurry of head-wing feathers and golden armor, the centurions scattered, leaving the Goddess of Light alone with the limp and pale body of their guard-captain.  His skin was chalk-white and cold and his lips were blue.  The fatal wound in his middle had not healed, despite all efforts.  Palutena knew that the wound had come from a grievous weapon – a godslaying – and angel-slaying kind of weapon, forged of the rarest of metals.  Dyntos would know more than she did… but he’d told her of this kind of metal once.  It was the kind of substance that could cause an immortal creature to die – permanently.  He’d been charged by the gods to try to find all traces of it upon the earth and to destroy or to denature it, but not even he had ever been able to be sure that all of the deposits of it had been wiped out.  Of course, some of the stuff was said to reside beneath mountains that held endangered species of plants and insects, which put any destructive efforts at odds with Viridi’s designs. 

 

“Come on, Pit!” Palutena pleaded, rubbing the angel’s body and kissing breath into his lungs.  “Come back to me. Please…please…” 

 

“He’s gone,” said the voice of a black-clad figure entering the throne room.  “I can feel it.”

 

“Pittoo…” 

 

“Now is not the time to be calling me by that stupid nickname,” Dark Pit protested.  “Pit is…” 

 

“You can feel his soul?” Palutena asked. 

 

“Pit is not here.” 

 

“Do you know where he is? Go on, use your mysterious twin-powers, you know, the kind that let you two pull battle-speeches out of her skirt-clad hindquarters together.”

 

“Pit’s… gone,” Dark Pit said, holding his hands out and shrugging.  Distress shone in his brown-red eyes.  “I really don’t know where he is… or _if_ he is.”

 

“Do you feel alright, Pittoo- um- Dark Pit?”

 

“So far? Yes. I don’t feel like I’m fading away or anything, if that’s what you mean. This isn’t like what happened with the Chaos Kin.  I just feel… an emptiness. That’s the only way I can describe it.  I don’t feel right, but I don’t feel dead, either.  I guess I still get to exist even though the idiot got himself killed.”

 

“Don’t call him an idiot!” Lady Palutena countered, a restrained fury flaring up in her features.

 

“He was my twin. I can call him whatever I want.” 

 

Dark Pit exited the palace hall, leaving Palutena to hold Pit’s remains and weep.  She was too stunned to do much of anything else.  When she’d decided that it was going to take a special degree of dedication on her part to find his soul, she took Pit’s body out to her garden and laid him upon a bed of flowers.  She went to the center island of Skyworld and used her power to erect a shrine of stone with a stone sarcophagus.  – Cremation was the more common funerary rite of the humans below, but if a goddess was to reunite the body and soul of one of their servants, they’d need at least some of the body to remain, dry bones at the very least. Being slain by an immortal-killing sword was not a favorable situation. 

 

If a true, whole-cloth reincarnation was in order, there was the risk of Pit losing all his memories.  In that case – would Pit still be Pit?

 

Before holding any kind of funeral or ceremony, Palutena had some business to attend to.  She willed herself down to the surface-world, to the town that had killed her angel and to the shrine where he had died.

 

 

Magnus was traveling a mountain road when it happened.  He looked down at the town he’d fled and saw an explosion of pure white light.  It nearly blinded him, but he’d squinted his eyes closed on instinct and missed the worst of the onslaught. 

 

Some people thought of “light” in regards to an elemental power, to be something for wusses, or else “all healing,” an “only good” kind of power.  Nothing could be further from the truth when light met certain standards.  Light was a creative force in the universe – nurturing plants and serving as a guide to all beings with working eyes.  Light warmed the skin and brought young plants up out of the ground.  Light nurtured growth and knowledge.  It could destroy, too.  Light faded ink and letters in books.  Beautiful paintings created by “enlightened” individuals never lasted too many years in direct light. Too much light could destroy the very plants light served to nurture.  Light, in particular quantities and with specific properties, didn’t warm the skin so much as it could melt the skin off bones. 

 

The town that had slain an angel became irradiated in a matter of seconds. 

 

The killer died. So did his wife and children.  So did every innocent young, elderly and infirm person.  One young man in the town had decided to take the upkeep of the old Light Shrine upon himself and to revive the worship of the Goddess of Light. He respected her angels and had not known of what had gone on in town earlier this day, for he was ensconced in the city’s library.  He was destroyed by the very light that he loved, without warning.

 

The town vanished.  The buildings remained, but the fields were scorched.  Outlines in grotesque white scars were burned into the stones of the street and of the walls. 

 

The goddess stood, snapping her fingers and smiling slyly. 

 

The sound of feathers rubbing together in a strained flight caught her attention.  Dark Pit landed behind Palutena as she stood, surveying the damage wrought by herself as a wrathful god.  “What are you doing?” he demanded. 

 

“How did you get down here, Pittoo?”

 

“Viridi helped me.  What are you doing? What is this?”

 

“Pit has been avenged,” Palutena said matter-of-factly.  “These people will never be able to hurt one of my beloved servants ever again.”

 

“What. Have. You. Done?” Dark Pit demanded.  “This… this isn’t like you! It isn’t like you at all!  Pit… Pit wouldn’t have wanted this! Have you lost your mind?” 

 

Palutena looked down. “I… I think I have.  It’s kind of a rush, though, acting as a god ought.  I have given the wicked judgment.”

 

“What are you saying? Palutena… Earth to Palutena! You’re acting just like you did when you were under the influence of the Chaos Kin!” 

 

The Goddess Palutena looked around herself.  The fields were undone.  The people were gone.  Her eyes caught the scorch-scars in the stones.  “It is just one town,” she whispered. “The town that killed Pit.”

 

“But he didn’t kill anyone!” Dark Pit shouted.  “Do you think he’d be willing to serve you if he saw you like this?  Wake up!” 

 

“It is the in the domain of gods to pass judgment…” the goddess said half-heartedly, like she was trying to convince herself that her outburst of rage was justified and failing at it. “I…I need to go home.” 

 

She left and Dark Pit followed. 

 

            


	2. The Skies were Broken and Gray.  A Steel Rain Fell

**PITIFUL**

**Chapter 2: The Skies were Broken and Gray. A Steel Rain Fell.**

 

 

He felt the tiredness creep into his bones, an exhaustion that ate away at his core and grew more profound with each passing day.  It wasn’t just the “emptiness” anymore that Dark Pit felt.  There was something that he knew, but did not want to admit to.  He could not admit to it. 

 

It would mean that he truly wasn’t his own person.  It also meant that he had a terminal disease. 

 

He’d been looking for Pit’s soul for months.  What remained of his light-clad and lighthearted counterpart had been laid in his stone grave in the marble shrine on Skyworld’s center island.  The centurions beat their breastplates whenever they marched by it on their drills and duties.  Whenever Dark Pit molted a black flight-feather, he’d lay it on the coffin and wish he didn’t feel the ache of absence. All of his offerings eventually blew away in the wind - like lost souls, themselves.    

 

Dark Pit, so far, was conscious, awake, aware and _alive_. He held no particular allegiance to Skyworld or to Palutena, but the emptiness that nibbled at the inmost part of his spirit kept him on this assignment for the goddess.  He’d agreed to it – nay, volunteered it of his own accord - only because an entire _half_ of him was gone and he needed it back.  The black-winged angel was on his search for purely selfish reasons – or at least, that’s what he told himself.  He refused all other duties the grieving goddess had tried to foist upon him.  He reminded her often that, despite appearances, he was _not_ Pit and never would be Pit.  He did not bow his knee to her, or compliment her every move. He was not quick with jokes – at least ones that didn’t drip with sarcasm and dark humor.  He happened to _like_ eggplant-tempura.  If she was radiance, he was shadow.

 

“I miss you,” he spoke to the wind.  “We all do, but I don’t think they understand what I feel.  Why couldn’t you have held on?  Where are you?  You have to be out there, somewhere, otherwise I wouldn’t be.” 

 

He looked at his hands.  “If you’d been eaten or faded away, I would have dropped from the sky by now.  I’ll find you, and once you’re back, I’ll have to pound you for putting us all through this!” 

 

The crow-winged angel took off; dropping off the edge of the island he was on into the sky.  He didn’t need to beg Palutena to give him the Power of Flight.  She’d given him a way to activate it himself because she did not want to bother.  It was still limited, though, and in all the trips he took to the Underworld, Dark Pit looked for some sign of one of the lesser Underworld gods almost as urgently as he looked for Pit, so he could have something to kill and steal power from.  He despised being dependant upon a limited source.  It wasn’t even his fault – when he was mirror-born, he’d somehow gained the same scars that Pit had.  Both of them had been ruined for flight by some battle long ago that neither of them had remembered and he couldn’t have remembered. It wasn’t fair, but neither was life, Dark Pit supposed. 

 

Palutena had become apathetic lately, about everything.  She did not want to bother with activating the Power of Flight, nor with any other miracles.  Her “constant duties” suffered; even those things she had always done of her accord, things she did not require Pit’s presence for.  The light in the land had become dimmer.  The sky was perpetually covered by gray clouds.  Even where the sun shone through, the light was pale and colors were washed out.  The land was not in darkness, but it was dressed in grays and browns and colors that were more tints than colors.  It was as if all Life had been sucked out of Light. 

 

It was as if the world was no longer one of a Nintendo game, but a videogame from some other company, devoid of cheery landscapes.  This is a _Kid Icarus: Uprising_ fic. You didn’t expect it to break the fourth wall a little?  You silly reader.  The author of this story is a big fan of the Playstation 2 game, _Shadow of the Colossus_ and imagines that the new Angel Land looks quite a bit like the Forbidden Lands of that game in regards to tones. 

 

The Goddess Palutena had little reason to bless the land with the light it had once enjoyed. Nights grew progressively longer and the days were clad in steel. The mortals below tried to adapt, but crop yields had gone down and a general depression had settled over everything.  Palutena had not destroyed the land with explosive expressions of light like she had that one town, only because Dark Pit reminded her that Pit’s spirit would be against it.  Not having Pit’s spirit with them was enough to make her cease caring and to become the enemy of all mankind as the Chaos Kin had been in her guise, but she knew that if Pit was found that he would be ashamed of her if she’d continued down that path.  Palutena remembered her patronage – she was a goddess for humans – even though her heart was no longer in it.  No sacrifice of grain, vegetables or wine was sufficient to lift her heart or to gain her favor.  She wanted only one thing, and she’d laid him down in stone.  She could never make another angel quite like him, and so did not even try. 

 

She no longer protected people from Viridi; yet, the young Goddess of Nature was surprisingly subdued.  Viridi had found no need to use reset bombs on any more than a few towns that were endangering sensitive areas.  Vines and forests had a tendency to grow up where they “did not belong” according to humans and those same forests were much more dangerous than they had been in eons, but Viridi refrained from bringing Humanity a full extinction.  It rather amused her to watch the remnants of mankind revert to an almost primordial state.  There were many towns, unable to rely on their harvests, that had taken to a hunter-gatherer economy.  The people of the land were learning their place again – as just another species of animal among the myriad beasts. Enough people had died from days shortened and light dimmed by apathy that a balance had been struck. 

 

Viridi remained a misanthrope, but knew that Pit would have wanted her to stay her hand.  As it was, she had not completely, and was barely restrained.  The idiot had loved mortals – born crying and soon dying as they were.  Whenever she’d prepared a reset bomb to take out some city that wasn’t doing a particularly great amount of damage to her realm and did not _need_ to be obliterated, she’d hear his voice in her mind saying something stupid and naïve but somehow uplifting and cute and would end up stowing or dismantling the weapon every time.  She reminded herself that it was humans that had killed him, but even that did not stop the chatter of her memories.  She’d grumble or rant to one of her servants, or to the mountains and the trees that she’d become a “domesticated rose bush” or a “tamed beast,” all because of one dead angel whose memory she felt bound to honor.  

 

It was pitiful, really.  She had become pitiful. So had Palutena. So had they all.  

 

Would she have been this screwed up inside if Phosphora or Arlon fell without her being able to restore them?  One thing for certain was that she had seen Pit’s last city after Palutena had annihilated it.  The damage had surprised her.  If she had known what light was capable of, she would have tried to court Palutena to her erstwhile cause long ago.  Viridi did have some problems with Palutena’s method of wrath, however.  It wasn’t just hostile to humans; it was hostile to all life.  The animals in the town had died, too – the livestock, the companion animals and all of the little wild things that made their homes in the crags and crannies of human homes.  Some of the new plants that had sprouted in the fields wiped clean were exhibiting problems with their genes due to the burst of radiation, too.  Palutena’s power fully unleashed was truly a terrible thing to behold. 

 

As it was, Viridi’s realm was suffering from the Goddess of Light’s depression now.  All days, no matter the season, had become as short as they were in deepest winter.  The light that did show was washed out and gray.  Viridi’s green children were having problems photosynthesizing properly. 

 

Palutena probably would never have admitted that Pit was a major motivation for her doing anything before.  For Viridi, he never had been, but had become a motivator for restraint, at least, in his absence

 

Viridi looked out over the forest from the front step of her vine-covered temple in a great and ancient tree.  A few squirrels and birds paid her respect as her feet shuffled in the fallen leaves.  Little insects chittered around her and cicadas hummed.  The daylight was waning.  “Was she like this before she acquired Pit?” Viridi asked herself.  She couldn’t imagine it and was too young a goddess to remember the eons that Palutena had governed before her time. She’d heard a rumor that Pit’s soul – like those of a certain type of angel that did not exist anymore save for him – had once belonged to a mortal.  If his spirit had been a reincarnated essence… well, she didn’t have a lot of contact with Palutena and her lackeys until relatively recently.  As far as Viridi was concerned, she was there to make the light that her children needed for life and that was it until the Great War.

 

 Only a kindled love could tear a heart like this and make someone, even a god, lose their mind to this extent.  Love was a weapon more devastating than anything.  It was uncontrollable and even more destructive than the hominid-species…   

 

Of course she didn’t love him! She’d tell herself. Viridi shook her head whenever she was tempted to think of Pit as more than an interesting diversion.  He was a pest that had interfered with her works – and he was obnoxiously determined…and brave… and would do anything for her, too… Okay, so she did care, and that’s what pissed her off. 

 

He used to make little offerings to her on the sly just to see her smile.  “Argh!” Viridi groused as she shook her head. 

 

Her attention was caught by something diving through the trees.  An angelic form landed like a sack of rocks before her, panting on a bended knee.

 

“Pittoey, what are you doing here?” she asked. 

 

Dark Pit shakily stood. “Don’t call me that. You know my name.”

 

“Well? What are you doing here? State your business or get lost.”

 

“Harsh. I… I need rest… I’ve been… doing my hunting.”  He looked pale and sick.  Viridi waved her staff and created a sturdy column of vines to hold the boy up as he swayed. 

 

“On the surface,” he continued, his breath coming painfully.  “I figured that I’ve scoured the entirety of the Underworld at least twice already, maybe Pit is on earth… maybe… maybe he’s been reincarnated.  Would you know? You are the goddess of living things…”

 

Viridi shook her head.  “Why don’t you come on inside.  I’ll have Arlon make you some tea.”

 

“I thought he was at the Lunar Sanctum.”

 

“We haven’t gotten it fully rebuilt yet.  Arlon will be glad to see you again.”

 

“Yeah, I think I will take you up on that,” Dark Pit sighed. 

 

“What’s wrong with you?” Viridi asked. “Did you eat some bad floor-ice cream or something?” 

 

“No…” Dark Pit struggled to convey.  “Emptiness. Emptiness eating me…I have to find him. I have to…”

 

“You need more than tea. Let’s get you to a bed.”  

 

“Viridi… I haven’t told Palutena as much but… I think the emptiness is catching up to me.  Everything is gray inside me, like the sky. I’m weak… I keep getting weaker by the day. I can’t keep my wings up.” 

 

Rain began falling, heavy like projectiles from a bullet blade.  

 

“I don’t think you can really help me,” Dark Pit said.  Fear shone in his eyes, caught red in the storm-light.  “I’m halved. Pit and I are bound together. I don’t know why it’s taken this long, but, Viridi… I think I’m dying.”           


	3. It Might Have Been a Mercy to Drown the Poor, Pathetic Thing

**PITIFUL**

**Chapter 3: It Might Have Been a Mercy to Drown the Poor, Pathetic Thing**

 

On a whim, Palutena decided to visit the realm of mortals in mortal guise. She had not done this in a very long time, but it was something she used to enjoy.

It used to be that on occasion, Pit would come with her and they’d both pretend to be humans to check up on the humans’ welfare and to mess with their minds. They’d dispense small blessings and a little mischief in equal measure and always make things right in the end. They would wear humble clothing – yet Palutena would always come out looking rather stately, still, like a noblewoman. She’d hide Pit’s wings, though, sometimes, they could enter a town in which people wouldn’t have been able to see them, anyway. Many people in the world were losing their faith and trust in gods and their messengers. Magical creatures were becoming the stuff of stories in some of these places. Miracles were attributed to nature and the normal clockworks of existence just as some of the normal clockworks of existence were mistaken, by those quick to jump to faith, for miracles.

A unicorn at the edge of the woods would be taken by the people of a settlement for a mere white mare because they’d failed to see the horn.

And so it had been with Pit and Palutena in their jaunts. Dark Pit had, too, complained now and again of being mistaken for a mere charioteer out with his horses if he’d landed the Lightning Chariot anywhere in a place where people were failing to care for the power of myth.

Palutena would take upon an assumed name. Because Pit was not as well-known in their world, he’d usually go by his own name, though once in a while, he’d take on the name “Icarus” at Palutena’s prompting. When he’d learned from mortals the meaning of the name, their teasing him about “crashing and burning” annoyed him greatly. They could not even see his hidden wings, yet he could feel heat in them. Of course, it had been Palutena that had suggested that name or presented him as such before he had a say-so. The looks on his face were priceless. The goddess missed teasing him so. They were sometimes taken to be a pair of friends, occasionally as a mother and son, and, every once in while, they were mistaken for a pair of lovers. It used to make Pit blush, but they got discounts on the best inn rooms that way, the kind that had hot springs adjacent.

Palutena couldn’t even take a bath these days without thinking about him. She missed the smell of wet feathers. It was a strange thing to miss, but it was all of the little things that made themselves the best known when they were no longer there.

So, she walked through a valley in simple sandals with a plain white dress and a fur cloak to keep out the cutting wind for old time’s sake. Palutena was in farm-country, in the field-areas outside the walls of one of the major cities. She noticed how pale the grass was even as it tickled at her legs. The sky was gray above her and she still felt no need to expend her energies to increase the light. Her heart was still too heavy and she wasn’t so sure that the people of the land deserved the favor anymore. Were the people who had been so kind to her and Pit on their incognito journeys still the same? Pit had thought the city he’d died in would accept his help…

Palutena came up to a small, squat house with a barn and a granary. This was an all-purpose farm, with different small fields and penned animals. The master of the farm was at work with a long implement in a barren garden. Palutena had met this man before, in mortal guise. He waved at her.

“Minerva!” he said, standing tall. “I never thought I’d see you around these parts again! A princess like you shouldn’t be in a place like this. I must apologize for the state of my property. From what I hear, no one’s havin’ much luck.”

“There is no need for apology, Onesimus,” Palutena said, holding up a hand. “I assume you have a hard enough time without farmhands or slaves.”

The heavy man sat down on a flat boulder after leading “Minerva” over to a bench on his property. “Never believed in keepin’ any slaves. I told you all about that the last time you visited. So, what brings you around these parts and where’s that little servant-boy of yours?”

“My…Icarus…he…” Palutena began, crossing her hands beneath her cloak. “He became a victim of battle, I’m afraid.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Onesimus said. “Would you like some wine? I could crack open a cask. “He was a sweet kid. May his soul find a favorable home. He would have liked the new births into my household, I think.”

“New births?” Palutena asked, taking a cup of water, but refusing the wine. “Have you and your wife had more children?”

“No, no,” Onesimus laughed, “Oh, speak of the devils, here they come now.”

A skinny cat with a pendulous undercarriage came slinking out of the barn followed by a group of small kittens. They looked to be a few months old, in the weaning stage. They squeaked and capered to keep up with their mother. They were various shades of brown, gray and white. They were fat and waddly, apparently just up from a period of suckling – fluffy and round except for one that straggled at the end, a skinny little thing that was apparently the runt of the litter. A disheveled coat and some scrapes showed that it was treated accordingly by its siblings. The kitten’s fur was mostly white with brown patches.

“Mamma-cat is Sophia,” Onesimus explained. “The best ratter I’ve ever had. I’m lookin’ for homes for all her little brats because I don’t need more than one cat. I call that big one Brutus, that one Gaius, that little female Leda…”

The tiny, skinny one approached Palutena. It sniffed at her outstretched hand cautiously and bristled its little tail. “Do you have a name for this one?” she asked.

“Pitiful.”

“Pitiful?”

“Yes. I call that one Pitiful. He was born tiny and weak – weaker than the rest and he’s not grown out of bein’ scrawny. To tell you the truth, I didn’t expect him to survive as long as he has. It might have been a mercy to drown the poor, pathetic thing, but I never could bring myself to put him in a sack and toss him in the river. I’ve gotten soft-hearted in my age over critters, I guess.”

Pitiful rested on his haunches and began licking Palutena’s fingers. “A brave little thing. Look at the other ones. They’re crowding close to their mother. This one came right up to me.”

She petted the young animal’s head and ran a finger along his spine. He arched, stretched and yawned. On a whim, Paluenta gently gathered the surprised kitten up in her hands and held him. Pitiful settled onto her lap, kneading her thigh through her dress with his tiny little claws, without a care in the world. The little cat purred in a way that only a creature that had no terror of gods could in the presence of a goddess. The Goddess of Light knew that the animal must have sensed what she truly was. Animals tended to be better at sensing those kinds of things intrinsically than humans with their rational minds could.

And the dandiest thing struck Palutena’s consciousness: That kitten absolutely belonged right where he was.

“Is he weaned?” Palutena asked the farmer.

“They’re startin’ to hunt,” Onesimus answered, “and I’ve been feeding them chopped chicken-liver mixed with milk from my goats. How come? You wanna take ‘em off my hands?”

“Not all of them, just this one.”

“Little Pitiful? Are you sure? He’s sickly. I don’t think he’s gonna live too long, the way he’s goin’. I don’t see him ever bein’ a strong mouser. Like I said, it might have been a mercy to drown him. He’s never gonna be a useful cat. Are you sure you don’t want Brutus? He already pounces on everything that moves – he’d be better to keep pests out of whatever manor-house a fine young lady like you must live in.”

Palutena noticed how Sophia and the rest of her brood, including the stocky Brutus, crowded close to Onesimus and away from her. Pitiful, meanwhile, had happily fallen into a peaceful sleep on her lap.

“It may sound like a bit too much of a luxury to you, Palutena explained, “but what I really want is a pet. I don’t need a mouser where I live, just a companion. I like him too much already. And the way he’s clinging to my dress, I don’t think he’s going to let me go.”

“Very well, then,” the farmer said. “I hope you can take good care of the little guy.”


	4. Pawprints on the Palace Steps and Light in Her Eyes

**PITIFUL**

**Chapter 4: Pawprints on the Palace Steps and Light in Her Eyes**

 

 

 

The days were becoming longer and brighter.  Clouds parted, allowing sun to return the land.  Colors were bright again.  Men, women and children, animals and insects, trees and fields, even the very stones seemed to breathe a sigh of relief as a gray mood was lifted from it.  Even the fogs and mists were silver at their edges again, or ringed in gold. 

 

The Goddess Palutena was not done with mourning.  She visited Pit’s shrine daily and kept it neat.  She still missed him every day.  She was back to work, though, carrying things on as things should be.  She sent her light upon those that believed in her and those that did not, and even those that acknowledged her existence but did not care if she went to Hades’ realm and sat on a tack.  Sacrifices and offerings did not mean much to her when someone had been laid upon one of her altars who would love for her just to smile again and to go back to doing the right thing. 

 

Perhaps it was the fact that she had another little creature wholly dependant upon her that was in her direct proxmity to look after that spurred her to get back to being a proper goddess.  Little Pitiful had the run of her palace and the main island of Skyworld.  He could not visit the other islands without her help because he could not fly.  Palutena wasn’t about to try giving a cat wings for fear of messing up and crippling his shoulder-bones, though she found the mental imagery of a winged kitten very cute. Instead she sometimes used her powers to pick Pitiful up and lift him off the ground to experience a slow flight.  It was easy to do with a light little body.  She’d done this on a whim, once, expecting the cat to hiss and spit in fear, but instead, he seemed to enjoy the experience.  He’d walk up to her and tap her ankle with a paw whenever he wanted to go for a “ride.” 

 

Of course, the brave little kitten also did this when he wanted food, which was often.  She had some trouble telling between a “food tap” and a “play tap.”  Palutena tried a variety of foods with the cat, having asked Viridi about the diets of felines. 

 

She refrained from the suggestion of human liver.  Viridi said that a trio of lion cubs she’d once nursed had loved it.  Palutena didn’t ask why the normally indifferent Goddess of Nature – one who maintained survival of the fittest – would nurse orphaned animal cubs.  Maybe it was an unexplainable lark, something done on an impulse, just like her adoption of this kitten. 

 

Pitiful had something special about him, however. Palutena could not decipher exactly what.  She smiled whenever he sprinted up to her, calling his squeaking meow.  He was warm and soft on her lap when she sat on her throne with him. His little shoulders jutted out a little, like wings even though she’d decided to not to give him any.  He seemed to know when she was feeling down about something – like when she was thinking about Pit – and would stand up on his hind paws to lick her cheek or her nose.   He was growing and getting healthy, too.  She felt almost bad about calling him “Pitiful,” but it was the name he responded to. 

 

One day, Palutena tried her hand at cooking gourmet food again.  When she’d shuffled her centurion-chefs out the kitchen door, they all held a look of worry on what could be seen in their eyes beneath their helms.  “We don’t have the captain to lead us against another carrotastrophie,” Chef Bruno warned. 

 

“Noted,” Palutena replied.  “I’ll just be doing a simple tempura and some sushi.”

 

Pitiful had followed her into the kitchen.  He looked up at her and looked at the chefs. 

 

“Gonna sashimi-up the cat?” Bruno asked. 

 

“Oh, most certainly not!”

 

“Too bad.” 

 

“Oh, just because he’s a bit rambunctious… I’m still teaching him manners.” 

 

Like most cats, Pitiful loved feathers.  The mistress’ pet had become the bane of the centurions because he was constantly climbing up on shelves and other heights and jumping down upon their heads to get at their wings.  A simple archer could be patrolling on a standard drill and suddenly be met with “cat from above!” 

 

“You should have gotten another goldfish,” the burly soldier-turned-cook commented. 

 

“They never lasted very long.”

 

“Exactly.  They also never pulled out my fletching and forced me to do a comb-over.”

 

Bruno and the others left.  “Oh, pish,” Palutena said, looking down at Pitiful, who spun around in little circles, appearing to dance for his dinner.  “If you ask me, what you did to old Bruno made me laugh harder than I have in a long time.  You don’t have to learn manners.  They’ll just have to get used to you.” 

 

“Meow!” the kitten offered. 

 

“Yeah, I’m going to cut us up some nice sushi… it’s something we can share. I don’t think you want the vegetables, though.  That stuff’s not for cats.” 

 

Palutena set herself to a cutting board, singing something about goldfish that was probably a commercial-jingle in another world when her elbow hit the pile of vegetables on the counter.  A plump eggplant fell and rolled on the kitchen floor.  It rolled toward Pitiful. 

 

The kitten hissed in resolute terror and jumped about five feet straight in the air.  He landed, completely a-bristle.  He backed away from the rolling purple menace, lashing out at it with his tiny claws. 

 

“Oh, my, my!” Palutena exclaimed, picking up the eggplant and putting it back on the shelf. “It’s okay, Pitiful! It’s gone now.  It’s not going to hurt you.  Geez, you’re as adverse to vegetables as Pit was, without even a reason.  You’re a cat. I’ve never made you eat any.” 

 

The kitten calmed, but sulked in a corner, his tail wrapped around himself.  He eyed the counter suspiciously as he licked his tail-tip.  Palutena held the eggplant and turned it over in her hand, contemplating it.  “No, it’s not magical in any way… it’s not an Eggplant Wizard in disguise.  How would a kitten even know of Eggplant Wizards, anyway?  I don’t think they go out of their way to torment animals.”

 

The next day, Palutena was wandering her halls, looking for a misplaced book when she saw something that made her go still and watch in silence.  In the main hall of her palace, Clarence, one of her oldest strongarms, was crouched down on the floor.  He had his head titled down, letting one of his wings flap.  There was Pitiful, dancing among the feathers, pouncing and chewing on them when he’d caught an end.  Clarence was chuckling, soft, deep and simple. Palutena smiled and let neither the angel nor the kitten know that she was there.    Clarence was a lot easier with her pet than Bruno was – being one of her “not smart, but sweet” men.   

 

After the kitten had rolled and kicked for a bit, Clarence got up.  Pitiful rested on his haunches and craned upright.  The cat almost looked like he was giving a signal with his paw.  To Palutena’s utter astonishment, Clarence straightened and gave a salute.  After that, he left.  Pitiful turned and capered toward her. 

 

“Yes, Pitiful,” she sighed, “You can haz cheezburger. It’s almost dinnertime.” 

 

“Mew?” 

 

There were so many things that Palutena found “suspicious” about her kitten. Most of his behaviors were normal cat-behaviors, but some were a little odd.  She’d never before met a cat that politely tapped her leg when it wanted something. She also had never known a cat to like water.  Pitiful loved Palutena’s private bath.  Sometimes, she’d be looking for him and would find him swimming happily in the divinely-golden waters.  He was a good swimmer, too.  He seemed to like Pit’s favorite places to sit around the palace, as well.  She’d cried when he’d found one of the boy’s shed feathers buried in the sheets on a bed, but allowed him to play with it and chew its shaft. 

 

She wondered why she’d never had animals around Skyworld before.  Pit would have enjoyed having a kitten around… or a puppy… or just about anything.  Maybe she was always worried that they’d fall of the edges.  There was nothing fun about playing fetch with an excited dog that would chase a ball right off into the abyss…  Pitiful seemed to know his limits.  She’d always kept Pit so busy – and he was so serious in keeping up his training, to the point of being comical.  They’d never really had time for pets beyond a few ill-fated fish.  Of course “pet” was what most of the other gods referred to Pit as, anyway – that he was nothing more than her “pet,” usually just before he shot them in the face with one of any number of cosmic weapons. 

 

 

 

“Pitiful?” she called after him when she’d lost his whereabouts.  She’d gotten caught in an extended session of browsing and editing Divinipedia and the growing cat had wandered off again.  The last she’s seen him, he was curled up on her throne, but now he was gone.  Palutena wandered around, checking the gardens and browsing the barracks. 

 

She ended up in Pit’s shrine.  The stone coffin lay as still and austere as ever.  There were a few wilting flowers atop it as well as some white feathers – from various centurions paying their respects as they passed by.  There were no black feathers, however. This worried Palutena. She hadn’t seen a black feather upon the sarcophagus in months.  Viridi had mentioned something about her keeping track of Dark Pit, but that was a long time ago.  He was an independent creature that could not be tied down and had no loyalties, but seeing nor sensing no sign of him for this long was beginning to trouble her. 

 

Also, lying upon the coffin, sleeping peacefully, was Pitiful. 

 

“Oh, what are you doing here?” she asked, waking the feline and gathering him into her arms.  He was settling into adolescence for cats now and was starting to get a little heavy. “This is a cold place to sleep, don’t you think?” 

 

Pitiful sneezed lazily as Palutena held him close, supporting his hindquarters.  “This is kind of a special place, you know,” she began.  “My finest servant rests here.  His name was Pit, but he wasn’t pitiful.  I’m sorry that you imprinted on such a terrible name, little kitty, I really am.” 

 

The cat climbed out of her arms and back atop the coffin.  Pitiful sniffed around in the flowers and plants on the lid. 

 

“He was brave,” Palutena went on, “Very brave and funny… a bit dim at times…and the absolute king of dorks…”

 

She could have sworn that the cat gave her a glare.  The animal picked up a bit of laurel in his mouth. 

 

“He had a way of just lifting up the hearts in an entire room.  I don’t know how to describe it other than he was very, very special. He literally fought the entire Underworld for the sake of what he thought was right – and for me.  He was that kind of person.  He reminded me of the way a goddess should be, every day.” 

 

_Why are you crying? I’m here.  Please don’t cry!   I’m right here._

 

“What?”

 

The goddess could have sworn she’d heard a voice inside her head, very briefly. Pitiful, still carrying that piece of laurel, butted his head against her hand and purred loudly. 

 

_I promised that I would find my way back to you._

 

Palutena stood shock-still as the cat stood upon the coffin, holding the dried foliage in his mouth.  Light from the sunset filtered into the shrine.  Maybe she was the Goddess of Light, but Palutena, for the most part, let it dance of its own accord unless it needed her to explicitly direct it.  There were a few times that light could catch even her by surprise, and this was one of those times.  The gold of the sunset lit the small hairs on Pitiful’s back and his prominent, almost wing-like shoulders.  It caught his pale cat-eyes (which were an unusual blue) and turned them deep sapphire.

 

“It couldn’t be, could it?” She asked herself, a hand to her breastplate, staring with tears edging her vision. 

 

 _I’m sorry I made you sad,_ echoed in the recesses of her mind – she was not sure if this was real or if it was just a stray thought of her own. _And I’m sorry to have kept you waiting, but I’m here now._

_I’m here._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *** The tapping-behavior: My household’s current cat does that. I’ve never known another cat that did that. It’s like “Hey, human, I have a need,” and she makes a polite little paw-tap. She also likes to sit with her front paws crossed like she thinks she’s art. She hates bells. A very unusual cat.**


	5. Death is Cheap and Lazy. A Howl Echoes in the Hills

**PITIFUL**

**Chapter 5: Death is Cheap and Lazy. A Howl Echoes in the Hills.**

 

 

“That had better not be real fur,” Viridi complained as she and Palutena walked along, both in the size and mode they normally chose to travel the surface-world in, with Palutena attempting to “look mortal” should any people happen along.  Viridi doubted it.  The two goddesses were walking the streets of the ruins of the city Palutena had destroyed with cleansing light.  Pitiful walked beside her, striding with his tail erect at her feet.  He was still young and kittenish, but was filling out into a fine young cat. 

 

“It’s not,” Palutena assured.  “It doesn’t look it, but it’s actually made of light.  Go ahead, run your hand along it.”  She offered out an edge of her cloak.  Viridi brushed it to find it sparkling. 

 

“I have to admit, even for you, that _is_ actually pretty cool.” 

 

“So, you are reclaiming this place.  It looks like you’re doing a pretty good job.”  Palutena’s voice was laced with sadness.  She looked out over the stone-brick buildings, covered in moss and vines.  A few sapling-trees and sprung up in the cracks in the street. There were birds alighting in them and atop the edges of walls and upon the scaffolding of roofs that had long been destroyed. 

 

Palutena remembered something – something that Pit had said during one of his battles with Medusa:  _Palutena is nothing like you! Who turns people to stone and poisons the rivers? **Who reduces the cities to rubble?**   _

 

She shook her head, trying to dislodge the nagging voice of her conscience.  She’d screwed up here – big.  It was in the past now, but, for the sake of her feelings for Pit, she’d become everything he’d ever fought against. Even if it was just for a time or just for a moment, it wasn’t something that could be erased.  She didn’t think she could even ask Kronos about changing what had transpired.  She knew that it wasn’t something he’d do for her, let alone her fear of some of the grislier things he was wont to do. Ancient titans were best left alone.     

 

Months ago, she had thought briefly about using the Rewind Spring on Pit’s body, but had decided quickly that she did not want to risk it.  One wrong splash or too-long dip and he wouldn’t have merely been dead, but un-living, possibly even erased from existence and Time.  Some people thought that pre-life and post-life were the same thing, but they really were not.  Each life left a mark – or in some cases – a scar upon existence itself that could never truly be undone.  If she’d tried dabbling in a sphere of influence not her own too deeply, Palutena was sure she’d only create fragmented Timelines and worlds, healing nothing in her own.

 

And so, she had to live with a destroyed city weighing on her heart.  At least Viridi was making good use of the place.  The Goddess of Nature said that ruined cities sometimes made the best ground for seedlings and creatures to take root and make dens.  Humans’ stockpiles of grain were enough to feed many herbivores and small rodents loved human houses and their crags.    

 

“What’s that at the edge of the woods?” Palutena asked.  Just outside the city, in a copse of trees, she detected the movement of a large creature. 

 

“Hmm,” Viridi said, “He looks like the one that’s been hanging around my temple. There’s something strange about him.” 

 

“I’ll say. Aren’t wolves shy?” 

 

Staring at them from between the trees, still and wary, but looking brave was a young, black wolf. 

 

“I don’t sense any others around,” Palutena added. 

 

“Yeah, that’s the one that’s been hanging around me for whatever reason.  He’s lone.  Lone wolves usually don’t last long in the wild.” 

 

The wolf vanished into the thick of the forest. 

 

“Well, Pitiful seems to be interested in him,” Viridi observed, seeing how the cat kept staring into the trees.  “That’s not unusual.  A hungry wolf will eat a cat if it can catch him.” 

 

“That’s another thing,” Palutena sighed.  “It’s okay, Pitty, the wolf is gone now.”

 

“Mew?”

 

Palutena continued.  “I have suspicions about my cat, Viridi,” she said.  “I know that this might sound strange, but I think he’s Pit.”

 

“Pit?” Viridi yelped, “What, no really? Pit’s… a cat?”

 

“Well, I couldn’t find his soul when he… you know.  I’ve been sending out my troops to search for him and I’ve been sending out my own energies.  No one’s found him in the Underworld.  Dark Pit wasn’t able to sense him anywhere when he was searching.  Ever since I’ve adopted this cat, I don’t know… I’ve felt something.”  She picked up Pitiful. “He’s lifted my spirits and he does stuff that… well… remind me of Pit.  I really think he might be Pit’s reincarnation.”

 

“Hmmm,” Viridi said skeptically.  She petted cat behind an ear. “Why would Pit end up as a cat? You’d think he’d try to come back to you as another angel or as one of his …precious humans…” she nearly spat the last word. 

 

“You know as well as I do that souls don’t always have a choice in their reincarnation,” Palutena said.  She set Pitiful down on the ground.

 

The cat ran off into a patch of tall grass.  A few minutes later, he returned with a wriggling grasshopper in his mouth.  He walked up to Viridi and tapped her foot. 

 

“Huh? You want to give this to me?” The goddess asked, cupping her hand in front of the feline.  Pitiful dropped the insect into her curled fingers.  It sprang out of her palm and hopped away. 

 

“What was that about?” Palutena asked.

 

Viridi was stunned.  “Your cat just gave me an offering,” she said.  “Now, of course, in feline-language, that’s usually something of an insult. It means ‘You can’t hunt, so let me teach you,’ but this was… different.” 

 

Palutena tapped her chin with a finger, like she did sometimes when deep in thought. “I wonder if there’s a way we can tell for sure… There are reasons why I haven’t tried calling any of the Underworld forces… and Dark Pit… I thought that he was still searching.  You last saw him.  Maybe we can call him back from wherever he is and he can take a look at Pitiful and see if he feels any connection.” 

 

“I didn’t want to tell you this, but…” Viridi began.

 

“Tell me what?”

 

“I was worried that you might go full-nuclear and go back to screwing up my realm again with the dimming of the light if I was honest with you about Dark Pit’s whereabouts.”

 

“I won’t, I promise.  Pitiful wouldn’t be happy with me.  Where is he?”

 

“Palutena,” Viridi sighed, “Dark Pit is dead.” 

 

 

 

 

She swabbed his head with water from her hot springs as he lay upon the bed of vines and leaves.  He was getting weaker by the day and his wings were losing feathers. 

 

“I still can’t find him anywhere,” Dark Pit lamented.  “Where could he have gone?  If he’s been eaten…”

 

“I don’t think that would have happened,” Viridi said.  To tell the truth, she wasn’t good at soothing troubled spirits. Troubled bodies also tended to be a thing that she ignored. Suffering and death were a part of her realm. The death of some gave life to others.  “Pittoo” was someone she’d felt differently about, however… just as she had felt differently about Pit. 

 

Arlon came by with the tea-service.  Viridi put a lukewarm cup of her finest oolong to Dark Pit’s lips and let him drink.  He’d never let on about any particular food preferences before, but ever since coming to her temple, he’d developed something of an addiction to mildly-sweetened oolong tea.  It wasn’t like the divine-wine, the “drink of the gods,” was having any effect on him.  The hot springs had also failed to heal him of his progressing sickness. 

 

He curled up in the shaggy white bear-skin on the bed.  Normally, for Viridi, fur was murder.  Well, when humans and other gods harvested it…it was different for her, as most things were.  This skin had been donated by a bear of unusual chromatic variation that had died of age and did not mind if his goddess took his pelt as a specimen. 

 

“I can feel Thanatos clawing for me,” Dark Pit complained.  “And I can’t even kick his tail this time.” 

 

“Phosphora fried him,” Viridi assured. 

 

“You can’t kill Death,” Dark Pit whispered. “Shades of Thanatos prevail wherever and whenever something dies.  Maybe you should ask him… about Pit…”

 

“I don’t know about that…”Viridi said, wiping down the young angel’s forehead again.

 

“I thought you were red in tooth and claw.”

 

“I am, but I never had a habit of eating souls.  He did.” 

 

“He wouldn’t eat Pit’s. Pit is too strong… or maybe just too obnoxious.  He’d give anyone who ate him gas or something.  Or food poisoning…. Since he eats like a buzzard.”

 

Viridi couldn’t help but smile just a little at that.  “Are you half-asleep?”

 

“No. Just clad in fur.  I think I might feel Pit now.  He’s clad in fur.  The next time you see me, I’ll be clad in fur.” 

 

 

 

 

“I thought he was just hallucinating at the time,” Viridi confessed. “My forces buried him outside my temple, by the spring.” 

 

Palutena chewed a fingernail nervously.  “I wish you had told me.  I wouldn’t have been left waiting for him to come back.  I thought he was searching all of this time.” 

 

“I’m sorry.  He just fell asleep and didn’t wake up after that night he came to my temple for help…after saying all those strange things.  He kept talking about Thanatos; I don’t really know what he meant…”

 

“Well,” Palutena offered, “the Reapers all ultimately work for Thanatos. He _is_ the God of Death.”

 

“If he’s around, do you think we ought to try contacting him for answers?”

 

“I don’t know,” Palutena pondered.  “Besides Thanatos being…ugh… his _charming_ self…I was worried about actually talking to anyone in the Underworld over Pit’s death.  He was such a fierce enemy to them all that I worried that someone might actively look for and try to eat his soul if they knew for sure that it was him that had passed through their halls.  But Thanatos is lazy.  Without Hades or Medusa bossing him around, he probably wouldn’t go out of his way.  Maybe he would be able to shed some light…er-hem! Or some darkness on the subject of whether or not my pet has come back to me in the form of a pet.” 

 

Pitiful sniffed.  It was an indignant sneeze if ever such a sneeze existed. 

 

“Maybe if we have something to offer the lout,” Viridi ventured. 

 

Palutena tapped her chin.  “Hmm.  Hades isn’t giving him free soda anymore, so there’s that.  That’s definitely something I can manage.  The centurions do love their root beer so I always keep plenty in stock.  I still have an ice-island full of ice cream that was… Pit’s…”

 

“Gods making offerings to other gods. What are we? Humans?”

 

“We do want to find out where our lost souls have gone off to, definitively don’t we? To confirm our suspicions?”

 

A deep wolf’s howl echoed off the trees in the forest beyond.   


	6. I'm Not Done Yet, I'm Still Kickin'. We Both Are.

**PITIFUL**

**Chapter 6: I’m Not Done Yet, I’m Still Kickin’.  We Both Are**

 

 

“All the soda and ice cream I could want? Who knew you were so generous! Just for that, I’ll forgive you for interrupting my rehearsal!” 

 

“Rehearsal?” Palutena asked, scratching her head.  She and Viridi were gathered before her scrying-pool at her palace.  Pitiful purred in Viridi’s arms, his forepaws resting on the edge of the pool. 

 

“Oh, my, yes!” the image of Thanatos answered in the pool.  “I _am_ a shapeshifter, you know, which makes me the most marvelous actor! I’m rehearsing for a play – I don’t know what kind yet, tragedy or comedy, but we’ll cross that bridge when we get there!  But what I _really_ want to do is direct!”  

 

“You are definitely more suited for comedy,” Viridi commented.

 

“Now what is that supposed to mean?” Thanatos shot back.  “Anyway, you wished to plumb me for information, is that correct?  What can I do for you two fabulous ladies?”

 

“Please!” Viridi huffed.  “Spare the flattery.”

 

“Why? Flattery always gets me a cherry on top of my sundae!” 

 

“We need to know the whereabouts of two souls,” Palutena said matter-of-factly, trying to bring the conversation around. 

 

“Two souls, eh?” Thanatos said, floating in the image in the pool.  “Why in the cosmos would you ladies bother with something like that? Once a soul quits the body, it’s the property of the Underworld, you know that!  Save for your… erstwhile thieving…”

 

“Thieving?” Viridi asked Palutena.

 

“It’s a long story,” Palutena said, looking down. 

 

“Oh, do tell, Palutena…” Thanatos taunted. 

 

She said the words quickly, almost running them together in a mumble, because she didn’t really want to tell.  “Some soldiers of my army were made using human souls.”

 

“Eh?” Viridi asked, not fooled by the mumble.  “So the rumors _are_ true!  That’s a pretty dirty business!  So you used to take human souls and… what did you do with them?”

 

“I snatched a few of them before the Reapers got to them and… um… I made them into angels.”

 

“You WHAT?”

 

Thanatos was laughing.  “Didn’t you wonder why little Pitty-Pat loved humans so much?  He never knew it, but he used to be one!” 

 

“It’s true,” Palutena sighed.  “I found that it was the only way I could give my troops the level of free-agency I wanted them to have.  You’ve seen the centurions.  They’re sweet, but they don’t know how to say no to me…”

 

“Neither did Pit.” 

 

“He wasn’t afraid to defy me when I was possessed by the Chaos Kin.  That’s what I was looking for… not just soldiers, but troops who could make their own decisions and companions I could actually have conversations with.”  She smiled ruefully, “I wanted servants around me who could appreciate love. Sadly, I lost them all in battle long ago – all of them except for Pit.” 

 

“Pheh. What’s go great about having servants who love you? Their purpose is to serve you,” Viridi groused. 

 

“You seem to like having Phosphora and Arlon around. They can talk to you beyond just taking orders.”

 

“Well, that _is_ true…”

 

Pitiful wriggled in Viridi’s arms until he came lose and balanced himself on the edge of the pool.  He dipped his muzzle in and delicately lapped a few drinks. 

 

“Gah!” Thanatos complained.  “Cat-spit! Pagh! How rude!” 

 

The cat finished and cocked his head.  Palutena stroked his back.  “Anyway, Thanatos,” she said, “It is imperative that Viridi and I know the whereabouts of a pair of souls.  Either help us or I withdraw my offer.” 

 

“Alright, alright, hold your horses already! Sheesh!  Do you have any specifics? The sheer volume of souls that the Reapers bring down here… especially with that big war we had lately, I can’t keep track of them all…”

 

“Well,” Viridi sighed, “We’re hoping you didn’t _eat_ these two.” 

 

“Were they recently parted from their bodies?” Thanatos asked.  “I haven’t eaten soul-bacon since Hades was in charge.  It gives me gas, you know, and you don’t need to be uber-powerful when you’re as HAMAZING as I am!”

 

“We hope you didn’t make them into monsters, either.”

 

“Who’s got time anymore for that? Silly Viridi, you ought to take up the theater! Such a wonderful hobby.”  He cocked his head, showing off his secondary skull-head to the scrying-pool. “Oh, I have a suspicion I know just who you’re looking for,” he sing-songed.

 

“Alright, we’ll cut to the chase…” Palutena sighed.  “If you want our offering, you’ll leave them alone if you haven’t harmed them already.  We’re looking for Pit and Dark Pit.” 

 

“As I suspected!” Thanatos exclaimed.  “Oh, poor little Pitty has been right with you this whole time.  I must say, Lady Palutena, not being able to recognize your own angel… pish! And with all those years of service he put in for you!”

 

“So he’s - !” Palutena gasped.  She grabbed Pitiful and hugged him tight. He kicked his back legs and squirmed in panic.   

 

 _Lady Palutena! Air! I need it!_ the cat tried to squeak.  _Don’t Elmyra me! This body was hard enough to find! I don’t want to have to search for a new one already!_

 

“Oh, I’m sorry, Pit…” Palutena said, setting him down.  It was then that she realized that she’d just heard his voice inside her head, just like the day she’d found him on the coffin. 

 

She looked back to the pool.  “Did you do that, Thanatos?  Did I just hear what I thought I heard?”

 

“I heard it, too,” Viridi confessed. “I mean, if it was Pit’s voice asking you not to make him have to shop for a new ribcage.” 

 

“Oh, I didn’t do that.” Thanatos chimed in.  “I think you two are becoming more in-tune, or something.  Or maybe you’re just paying attention, or he’s growing up and coming into some of his old powers...  Anyway, that is Pitty’s soul.  What’s more is that he has his memories!  My, my, that’s unusual!  He slipped his Reaper and wasn’t forced to drink from the river of forgetfulness.  It must be such a pain to carry all that old baggage.  I can erase those old memories if you want!” 

 

Palutena grabbed Pitiful again protectively.

 

 _I treasure my memories!_ the cat telepathically shouted.  _Um… Lady Palutena… about that breathing thing again?_

 

“Oh, sorry!” the goddess said, letting the animal free again. 

 

“Why did Pit become a cat?” Viridi asked out loud.

 

“Well,” Thanatos explained, “Beats me!  Maybe his soul knew it was going to fade if it didn’t find a home soon and it came across a pregnant cat.  Maybe he just wanted to be adorable! Like me!” 

 

Thanatos shape-shifted into the form of a gray cat – a half-rotting zombie cat. 

 

“Ewwww!” Viridi and Palutena said collectively.  Pit balanced on the edge of the pool and swatted the waters.   

 

Thanatos took the hint and shape-shifted back to his usual form.  “There is a way to make Pit back into an angel,” he said.  “If you can use your oh, so fabulous Light Goddess magic to refresh and re-flesh his remains, all you’ve gotta do is snap little Pitty-Kitty’s neck and he should go right back in to his old body, no problem!” 

 

Pitiful bristled and hissed. 

 

“Oh, I don’t think we’ll be doing that,” Palutena assured. “I’m afraid we don’t really trust you on that advice.” 

 

 _You can create a new body for me, right Lady Palutena?_    The cat looked up at her imploringly.    _You can make me one that can fly!_

 

“It will… take time,” Palutena said, smiling sadly, scratching the young cat under the chin.  “I’ll be out a captain… Though Clarence has been doing alright for peacetime.”  She turned to Viridi. “How long do cats live… by nature?”

 

“About ten to twelve years, sometimes a little longer if they’re well cared-for.  That’s a blink of an eye for us.” 

 

“Are you okay with being a cat for a while, Pit?” Palutena asked.  The truth was, she didn’t like the thought of killing him to restore him and thought it best to get his opinion on the matter. 

 

Pit jumped to the floor.  _I like being a cat a lot Lady Palutena!_ he “said.” _I can eat as much as I like and I can sleep in whenever I want, and… I can’t fly, but that’s okay, because I can cuddle up on your lap…_

 

The blood came up in Palutena’s face. “You aren’t thinking naughty thoughts again, are you?”

 

“Relax,” Viridi said. “He’s a cat.  He wouldn’t think of you in a naughty way unless you were another cat.” 

 

Pit made a little cat-cough that Viridi could have sworn was a sign of relief.  He trotted over to her and tried to direct a thought directly toward her.  _Thanks… I am going to give you sooooo many dead pigeons.  Wait.  Ew! What am I saying?_  

 

Viridi laughed.  “Oh, he may be Pit, but he definitely thinks like a kitty.”     

 

“What about Dark Pit’s soul?” Palutena asked the pool. 

 

Thanatos smiled a wicked smile.  “Oh, I’m pretty sure you’ve met with him in your travels.  He’s tied to Pit, so what happens to Pit happens to him.”

 

“Well, I figured that much,” Viridi grumbled.  “Pit got killed, so Pittoo got sick and died despite my best efforts at healing and all the divine remedies.” 

 

“Well,” Thanatos ventured, “If Pit was reincarnated as an animal, what do you think might have happened to the Goth-version of himself?” 

 

“Are we looking for another cat?” 

 

Palutena shook her head.  “You said you had a black creature roaming around your temple, the same one we saw in the ruined city.” 

 

“Ding! Ding! Ding!” Thanatos shouted, immediately drawing much-wanted attention back onto himself.  “Now can you phrase your final answer in the form of a question?” 

 

“Why did Dark Pit become a wolf?” 

 

“You hep-cats can figure that out for yourselves!  As for me, I’m off to make the biggest, most divine root beer float ever!  Laters!”  


	7. It is Not Mine to Forgive, Only to Love

**PITIFUL**

**Chapter 7: It is Not Mine to Forgive, Only to Love**

 

 

“Are you sure this is him?” 

 

In Palutena’s garden on the main island of Skyworld stood Viridi and a handsome, young black wolf. 

 

“It had better be him,” the younger goddess groused. “Do you have any idea how hard he was to catch?”  She dipped low and presented a bowl of pale liquid to the animal.  She pushed Pit’s nose back from the bowl.  The wolf stepped up to the bowl, sniffed it and immediately lapped it up.

 

“I don’t know too many wolves who like oolong tea as much as he does,” Viridi asserted.  “He’s been silent, in that whole weird head-games department that Pitiful was doing-”

 

 _Pit. You know that I’m Pit now.  You can stop calling me ‘Pitiful’ now._   – The cat tapped her leg.   

 

“Oh, I think I’ll still call you Pitiful,” Viridi teased.  “Or Pitty-Kitty.” 

 

The cat flattened his ears.  The wolf gently sniffed him. 

 

“Now, don’t you eat him if you’re not Pittoo!” Viridi scolded. 

 

_And you can stop calling me by that name.  I DIED. I ought to get a more dignified name now._

 

“It is you!” Palutena said, clasping her hands with joy. “Now, what is an appropriate name for a wolf… You’re Dark Pit, and you have dark fur, perhaps we’ll call you ‘Darkly.” 

 

The wolf let loose a low growl.  _That’s almost as bad as “Pittoo.”_

 

“Flea-bit!” Viridi offered. 

 

This earned the nature-goddess a glare and a flash of clenched teeth.   

 

“Pit and Dark Pit will be fine,” Palutena declared, “Though I am going to miss my ‘Pitiful’ kitty.” 

 

Pit wasn’t paying attention.  He was rubbing his head against his canine brother’s chest and arching his back against one of his legs. 

 

 _I’m so glad you’re back!_ the cat exclaimed.  _I was worried that I’d lost you forever! And Lady Palutena, and everybody!_

 

 _I’ve finally found you_ , the wolf replied, _But if you EVER do that again…_

 

_What? It’s not like I had a choice in the matter! I was murdered! And the guy had a horrible weapon that left a wound that Lady Palutena couldn’t heal!_

_You could have been more careful, you idiot!  A mere human got you.  It wasn’t even a god or a monster!  Do you know how sick I got being severed from you?  And what growing up in a cold den is like? And eating raw deer kidneys?-That are horked up for you? And I kept searching for you all over the wilderness!_

_It was no picnic for me either! I was born in a smelly barn and the other kittens picked on me!_

“Now, settle down, you two!” Palutena ordered, thumping the butt of her staff on the ground.  “You’re both here and you’re both alive! Albeit… a bit discombobulated at the moment.” 

 

“Not to worry,” Viridi sighed.  “Wolves don’t live very long, either.  Like all mortals – born crying, soon dying.” 

 

“If they are separate enough to warrant separate bodies, I had better get started on creating what they’ll eventually need.”

 

 _Lady Palutena?_   - Pit turned around and craned his little cat face up toward her again, _Remember, we should be able to fly on our own!  That’s really, really important!_  

 

Palutena laughed.  “Oh, of course. Though, I suppose I could merge you two back together again.  Dark Pit is a reflection of a part of your soul, after all, even if you’re sort of your own people now.  Maybe you’d be happier being together again as one?”

 

The cat’s tail bristled in absolute panic and the wolf growled and glared.  _NO!_ they said emphatically.   

 

_I like having a little brother! Pit chimed._

 

Dark Pit snorted and looked down his long nose.  _Merged like peanut butter and jelly in a sandwich with him again – no thanks. I’ll take my freedom._

 

 “Alright, it’s settled, then,” Palutena declared.  “You’ll live out your life-spans in your current forms and after that, you’ll be restored.  But, where will you live, Dark Pit?  Pit is happy to stay here with me, but you… you’re a wild creature.”

 

“He can watch over my temple…” Viridi offered. “He can chase away or, better yet, EAT any stray, disrespectful humans who get too close.” 

 

Palutena tapped her chin.  “I do wonder why Pit would become a cat and Dark Pit a wolf… I mean, besides taking whatever bodies were available at the time.  Isn’t it typical of canines to be the loyal creatures of the animal kingdom and felines to be the independent creatures?”

 

“It makes perfect sense to me,” Viridi explained.  “Cats can be very loyal under the right circumstances and Pit always was like a domesticated pet.  Wolves aren’t like domestic dogs. They’re wildlife – and wolves that stray from or are kicked out of a pack and go it alone usually don’t last very long.  So you have the cute little eager-to-please kitty on one hand and the untamed ineffectual loner on the other!” 

 

Dark Pit snorted.  He then playfully snapped at Pit’s tail, initiating a chase to the other side of the island.  Their “laughter” echoed in the minds of both of the goddesses. 

 

 

 _You know, I could eat you in this form,_ Dark Pit stated after they found themselves capering around marble columns away from Palutena and Viridi.   

 

 _I’d claw my way out._   Pit retorted. He sheathed his claws and gave the wolf a soft swat on the snout _.  I’ve been a dog before.  It wasn’t for long, but I know how you work._

_I am NOT a dog. I’m a wolf._

_You probably would still stick your nose into beef-garbage._

_Are you sure you want to stay up here and be Palutena’s little pet again?  Do you know what she did right after you died?_

 

 _Yes,_ Pit said, sitting on his haunches.  _I’ve heard all about it.  You can’t be a cat without being a bit sneaky and learning a few secrets.  Also, Lady Palutena confessed everything to me before she was sure who I was._   He cocked his head, trying to do a feline equivalent to a grin.  _Her lap is very warm._

Dark Pit sat tall.  _What is your take on it?  She destroyed an entire city.  She killed many people, some that were out for your blood, and some that were innocent.  She may have killed many more when she withheld her light from the land.  Are you seriously still going to worship at her feet?_

_It’s no different than when she was possessed by the Chaos Kin.  She wasn’t herself._

_Yeah… right! She wasn’t possessed, Pit.  What she did was of her own accord.  She was showing her true self._

_I don’t think so,_ Pit countered.  _She really wasn’t!  She was just… she was just grieving!_

 

The black wolf chuckled in whatever way a wolf could.  _Love does leave a scar.  What she was – was how she is without you, Pit.  You see her as the greatest goddess – your pretty, perfect Palutena.  The truth is, without someone to anchor her, her sanity hangs by a thread like all the rest of the gods. What a world with such a group of bickering idiots in charge of it! You really are too good… She doesn’t deserve the devotion you give her._

_Nuh-uh! She’s the Goddess of Light!_

_Light is not always good, just like darkness isn’t always bad.  You really ought to get it through your naïve skull.  You are her pet – literally now._

Pit stretched and licked his lips.  He stared the wolf in the eyes.  _That only means that she needs me!_ the angel-turned-cat asserted.  _If she needs me to keep her being the pure good goddess I know her to be, well, then so be it! I’ll stay with her forever and do just that!_

_So, you are saying you forgive her?_ Dark Pit asked.

_No,_ Pit answered, _I can’t forgive her._   _It’s not my place to.  The people who suffered and the souls of those who died – they are the ones that can decide whether or not to forgive her.  My place is different._

 

_And what place is that?_

 

_To do what pets do.  Just to love her._

So, for the lifetimes given to beasts, a black wolf guarded a vine-tangled temple and hunted in the sacred forest of the Goddess of Nature.  Likewise, a cat chased stray angel-feathers in a palace in the sky and rested every night on the lap of the Goddess of Light. 

 

The cat was never called “Pitiful” again.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **In hindsight, I kind of can’t believe I actually wrote this. This is possibly one of the weirdest fan fiction plots I’ve ever done.**
> 
> **That said…**
> 
> **I’M FINISHED!  
> **


End file.
